How To Train An Italian
by fanfictor17
Summary: "The Italies are such weaklings" that is what Skogurland thinks. BUT! She ALSO thinks that some time in her Viking-based homeland will toughen them right up! Bad summary is bad. (Skogurland is my Hetalia OC, I am currently working on her origin story. *She is portraying a boy, please don't be confused* There might be some fluff later, pairings are GerIta & Spamano.)
1. Chapter 1

"GEEEEEERRRRRRRRRMMAAAAAAAAAANNNYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!"

"Ugh."

It was nothing out of the ordinary. Italy and Germany had gone out for a walk and Feli had seen a little lost Shitzu wandering around. Feeling sorry for it, the brunette had gone to pet it, but the dog would have none of it.

Biting down on the slim fingers, the mutt growled ferociously, lips curled back.

"Ahhhhhhh!" the Italian wailed. "I'm sorry _cucciolo!_ But my fingers aren't food and that really hurts and if you let go I'll give you some of Luddy's wurst though I doubt you'll enjoy it since it usually tastes really bad though he really tries hard to make it-"

If you thought that Germany would be the one to remove the canine, you were wrong. Instead, the dog was smacked over the head with a large branch and throw off into a bush by...a little boy (or so it appeared).

Germany was the first of the two to react, recognition claiming his facial features. "Skogurland."

Italy sniffed, then pulled the child into a tight hug, making the younger of them flush and stiffen up.

"Grazie, Alvin! That dog sure was a meanie pants!"

"Al-_vi._ No -n, Italia," they muttered, annoyed that her name was always being mis-said, except by her brothers, the Nordics.

Germany pried his lover off the island nation and glanced about, puzzled.

"Where did you send the _hund_...?"

Alvi blinked, reminding the men of Greece for a moment, then pointed.

The Shitzu was now caught at the top of an oak tree, and was whining most pitifully, their white fur obscured by most of the leaves.

"Ve~ aieya! Poor thing! Let him down! Let him down!" Italy tugged on Germany's arm like a toddler asking for a cookie.

Ludwig looked up and watched the dog for a moment, contemplating. _Those branches are awfully thin..._

"Hmmmf! _Frojgt! I'll_ get it." Alvi rolled her eyes, annoyed at the fuss the Italian was making over such an lowly creature as a _dog._ Especially one that had just tried to eat his fingers.

It took only a few quick swings to maneuver up the trunk and to the pup (since she spent a lot of time stalking prey from trees back in her homeland), so once the dog was in her hands, Skogurland began the tricky part. The descent.

It may be once thing to climb up and down a tree with a spear and a bow/arrow set, but a live, wriggling, angry Shitzu is another thing.

She was halfway down when Alvi got fed up with the biting.

Meaning she tossed her cargo out of the tree.

Straight at Spamano (who were also out for a walk).

Who freaked out.

Sighing annoyedly, Alvi jumped down and took over from Spain, who was barely keeping the canine from Lovi (who was perched on Antonio's shoulder and swearing at the top of his lungs in Italian).

Skogurland snarled at the Shitzu, then gave a few barks of dominance. Being turned into a dog for a few days had its advantages it seemed. Fred (the dog) jumped down from the girl's arms and bowed his head, like an apology. Then he scurried off, tail between his legs.

Alvi watched her fellow nations with a blank face. Romano was calling Spain a 'Tomato Basterd' and claiming that Toni had lifted him up against his will (lies). Germany was giving Feliciano a cuddle so he would stop whining about his fingers long enough for them to be cared for by the tall blonde.

Then Lovino went attack mode on the 'Potato Basterd' and ushered Feli away for some first aid, the other two men following closely.

"Ekki einu sinni 'þakka-þér'." (Not even a thank-you) Alvi grumbled, picking at her own bite-marks in annoyance.

_Those brothers are such wimps! If they had been born into _my _tribes, they would have delt with the mutt themselves._

Just then, an idea came into her head, giving the young girl a chesire grin. A wonderful, awful idea.

She skipped back to her temporary home at Canada's house (he was her mentor in being a country and modern-world customs) and started packing.

Alvi was going back home.

But not alone.


	2. Chapter 2

"Lovi~! Boss is-a home!...Lovino?"

Spain entered his house carefully. It was very unusual to come home to silence, since his lover Romano would start swearing at the 'Tomato Basterd' upon entry.

_Maybe he's asleep?_

Checking every room, Antoniostarted panicking.

_In the kitchen? _Nope.

_The bedroom?_ Nuh-uh.

_The bathroom?_ Nada.

"Roma! Are you hiding from-a Boss? _Por favore, _please answer!"

Still nothing. Spain pulled out his cell and hit the speed-dial. Setting the phone between his left ear and shoulder, Toni picked up the fallen chair and closed the window, listening for...wait...fallen chair? Open window!?

Antonio's went wide at the realization just as he heard a buzzing noise coming from the floor.

It was Romano's phone.

Germany was having a shower when he heard a small 'thump!' come from downstairs. Brushing it off as just Feli being noisy while making pasta, Ludwig continued to scrub the suds from his hair.

Once he was at a state of cleanliness that pleased him, the German dried himself off and put on his boxers and pants. As he reached for his black tank top, he realized that the house was quiet.

Too quiet for being the home of a certain Italian.

Forgoing the shirt, Ludwig instead grabbed his revolver from the dresser and silently crept downstairs. Peeking into the living room, he saw something that made his germanic blood run cold.

A plate of spaghetti lying on the floor, all spread out and displaying its position of being dropped half-eaten.

"_ITALIA! WO BIST DU!" _Frantic, Germany ran throughout the house, but found no trace of his lover. Setting himself on the couch, head in his hands, his mind raced.

_Why vould he just disappear like dat? Someting is definitely vrong. _He sat up as a thought occured to him. _Maybe his bruder vould know-_

But then a knock came from the door. Running over and flinging it open the German was disappointed to see a a familiar Spaniard on the doormat, out of breath from his hurry to get there.

"Are you missing your Italian too?"

**(*Wo bist du?* = *Where are you?*)**


	3. Chapter 3

"Ve~ where am I? Germany?"

Italy opened his eyes slowly. He blinked a few times, trying to see. When the darkness didn't clear, he started to panic, but shifting his head a bit, he realized there was a bag on his head. Also, the back of his skull was sore.

_Did someone hit me?_ VE!_ Maybe I fainted and Ludwig thought I was dead, and now I'm in the morgue! _Feli whimpered softly, praying that he wouldn't be buried alive.

"Oooagh. Basterds..."

Jumping a bit at the sudden voice beside him, Italy found he was in a sitting position, his hands tied. Groping the area next to him, he felt similarily tied hands and he clasped them in a small burst of happiness. "Romano! You're here too!"

Roma grumbled a bit more, trying to make sense of the situation. They had obviously been kidnapped, though Lovino was unsure why exactly. Maybe something about his Mafia ties...but then why was his stupid brother there?

The two heard a hum go about them, like an engine. Lovi tried to remove the bag from his head and found his hands tied to his belt. Cursing, he pulled Feli over and removed the younger's bag instead.

Gasping at the sudden light, Italy squinted as everything came into focus.

"Um...Fratello?" his voice caught a bit as he helped his elder brother with his own bag.

"Cosa?" (*What?*)

"Why are we on a plane?"


	4. Chapter 4

As the twin Italians' eyes adjusted to their surroundings with dismay, many many kilometers away their respective lovers were calling their entire contact lists, asking anyone and everyone where Feliciano and Lovino were.

But no one knew. So Germany did the most rational thing he could imagine.

He called a world meeting.

As he wrote the mass email, Spain tried calling Italy's cell phone, but only got voice mail, where he left fifteen different messages, each one becoming more desperate than the last.

"Italia, its me, Spain. Do you know where Lovi is? Call me."

"Hey, Italy, its me again...could you tell Roma to call me, if you know where he is?"

"...*sob* Lovinoooooo, donde es tu? Feli...if he's mad at me...just tell me! *sob* por favore!"

Germany sighed as the replies started coming in, all of them rather nasty about such an impromptu meeting.

"Well at least they're all coming," the German muttered under his breath, looking for any good news during this awful event.

After what seemed like ages, but only turned out to be two hours (the first two had already passed by the time the Italians woke up), the plane landed. It wasn't all the big, just a small charter plane, Lovino noticed with some dismay.

_At least with a jet, there are passengers to notice a kdnapping. Clever basterds._

Italy had been oddly quiet, him assuming that their captor would toss them overboard if he so much as _breathed_ too loudly. He had been captured far too much for his own good.

As the plane's wheels touched Earth, bumping the brothers about in a manner that almost toppled them over, Romano started yelling.

"HEY! BASTERDS! LET US GO!"

"Shh! Fratello, they'll get angryyyyy..." Italy whined, making the elder want to facepalm.

"Thats the POINT! Idiota!"

Before Italy could rebut however, footsteps sounded throughout the compartment, and then they saw who was responsible for this whole mess.

"Veee~ Alvin?"

"Al-_vi, _Italia. No -n!" Skogurland corrected, as she opened the plane doors and stood up her prisoners. She cut their leg bindings and lead the pair off the plane and onto a nearby boat.

The men took in their surroundings with a bit of awe, which only showed on Feliciano's face, of course. Skogurland (place) was actually...kinda pretty. The main island was heavily forested, while the three little islands that sat next to it held barely any features at all. The first, with the 'airport', was simply hard earth with a little bit of grass here and there.

The second was all sandy, a little beach of its own. And the third was jagged rock, which the waves crashed upon agrily endlessly.

Romano wasted no time in confronting the young nation with them, making the boat operator wince at the swears.

"BASTARDO! Why did you kidnap mi fratello and I?! Idiota- you have no idea of our power, you stupid-"

"I know, Romakka." The girl interrupted, to the mild shock of the Potty Mouth, who was now fuming over the misspronounciation of his name. "You two are, how say...weak! Doggie has more strong than both you together! Is why I make you stronger."

"Vee~ by taking us hostage?" Italy asked timidly.

Sko shook her head. "Nak. No- training is here, you needed be here, so I take you here." With that, she untied the last of the men's bondages, but pulled Romano back down as he attempted to jump ship. "Is teethy fishen here, Romakka-" "ROMA-NO!"

Italy looked over the side and gasped, grabbing his brother tightly just in case he tried to abandon him again. There were indeed 'teethy fishen' down there- hammerhead sharks, to be precise.

"They gone by leafs redening, but it warm now, so they here." Alvi explained as Romano struggled against Italy's death grip. She was used to the creatures, having first learned of them some years earlier, when she had tried to swim out the her little islands, only to have to turn back quickly.

Eventually, the group reached the main island and departed the boat, Skogurland striding into the forest. The Italies held back, trying to figure out what to do.

"We could steal the boat and go back to the plane, but I-a doubt we could fly back on our own," Roma thought aloud.

Italy was about to mention his phone, when their _host_ poked her head from behind a tree, annoyed.

"Fast! It get dark- ve vill miss supper," She scolded.

With that, the phone was forgotten as Italy 'Vee'd' and ran into the foliage, his brother following desolately.


	5. Chapter 5

The trio walked for half an hour, the Italians often tripping on roots and stones, but the girl found no problem, seeing as she had had about 120 years to learn the layout of her homeland.

Eventually, they reached the 'village'- a collection of Viking-based hill homes and a few log structures. As they arrived, a few people nodded greeting to Alvi, while the Italians were promptly surrounded by children, all curious as to why the strangers' hair was such a strange colour; brown. All of them being blonde, and the only other village on the island being populated by red-heads, the children clustered, all reaching up at the dark curls, none of them actually daring to touch.

A sharp word came from Sko, and the youngsters scattered. Italy 'vee'ed with a little sadness, him missing the attention, while Lovi was glad that none of the 'Little Basterds' had actually touched them, or their curls.

Alvi pushed the two men into a small hill-house (hers) and called over a fellow warrior, a big blonde brute of six feet, who wore leather leggings and a long tunic. His blue eyes drifted to the guests as his 'Captain' gave him an order.

The door closed, Romano stepping quickly to his left as the darkness filled the dwelling, and he growled a bit in annoyance as he heard Feliciano grope the air for his brother- hoping for a hug.

"Damn...the Basterd took my phone...though I doubt I'd get service out here...******..." he grumbled.

"Vee~ I have-a my phone, fratello!"

This time it was Romano who was groping the air, to find and throttle his sibling.

But before he could take more than two steps, the door opened, and Alvi stepped in, her arms full of bundles of cloth and fur. She sorted through a bit of it before placing the stack- in two sets- in the ground for later. She had changed already, from 'modern' clothes to something more Skogurian.

Her fore-arms were shielded by old brown bear leather, as were her calves. She was barefoot, as was the norm in her homeland during the summer, her toes already caked in dirt. Her tunic went from her shoulders to her knees, and she bore an old, tanished and chipped sword at her waist.

"These are your training wearings, you put on after food. Come." She turned on her bare heel and strode out.

Lovi plopped himself down instead, annoyed at the constant commands. _Follow, stay her, come, sit, ENOUGH, little basterd! _he thought.

Feliciano was torn. He wanted to stay with Roma, but was scared of being hit by the smaller but stronger nation. _Vee~ he's so scary for a kid!_ In the end, he chose his fratello, and sat down, sniffing a bit and wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

Alvi noticed her 'guests' had not followed and started to growl. She yelled for them, too frustrated to actually go get them. "ITALIA! ROMAKKA! NO FOOD IF YOU NO COME!"

She saw a blur sprint past her and trip into another hillhouse, then come over to her, still at top speed. "Pastaaaaa!" Italy saluted.

Romano followed very slowly, dragging his feet. "You better not poison the food, Wild Basterd."

**-0o0o0o0o0-**

Canada heard the 'bling' on his phone and pulled it out, setting his book aside, face-down and open.

"New email?" he wondered aloud. Kumajiro wandered into the room at a leisurely pace, glad that the wild child nation had gone home.

After seeing the message was from Germany, Matthew opened it, knowing what could be inside. "'Emergency meeting tomorrow- NO ABSENCES!' Hmm. What could be wrong?" The last time there had been an emergency meeting was _ages_ ago, and it had just been the BTT pulling a prank.

"Hmm...I better call Alvi. He doesn't have an email, so he wouldn't have got the message," the Canadian mumbled to himself.

He heaved himself out of the chair and gave Kumajiro a small pat before going to the kitchen for a cup of tea, dialing the number for Skogurland's only phone as he walked.

The phone was answered on the third ring by Tor, the native in charge of the 'foreign ringing tool'. He was only eight, but the job fell to him since he was the most fluent in English, and his home was within hearing distance of the rings.

"Góðan dag? Is Skogurlandia phone!"

"Hi Tor, its Matthew. Is Alvi there? He should be there by now...?"

"Alvi is close, he settles guests-" the line turned to static for a minute as the phone was snatched from the human's hands.

"Matteh, why you phoning?"

"Hey, Alvi. There's an emergency meeting tomorrow, but I guess you might not be able to come, since you just got home..." Canada realized as he pulled the steaming kettle off the stove, and turned to the pantry for the tea bags.

"Meeting? Why meeting? Was one yesterday." Sko demanded throught the static.

Matthew sipped the Earl Grey before answering. "I'm not sure. But an emergency one means that there's a problem; like a natural disaster, or one of the Nations has gone missing."

"...I stuffing do. Tell me after. Bye-de-bye Matteh."

"Right, bye Sko."

Matt went back to his study with a second cup of tea, and wondered what the meeting could possibly be about to make Germany's email seem so urgent. He forgot, for the time being, that Tor had mentioned that Alvi had guests over.

**(YEAH!**

**I mean, *ahem*, sorry for the wait! I've been so busy with school and other projects that I only finished this part now.**

**T-T {I'm so sorry.}**

**I'll try to post the next bit quickly, so be on the look-out! ^_^' Sayonara!)**

***UPDATE* I _tried _to put up the next bit, but the internet decided that I should suffer and deleted it! FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA**

**Welp, I'll try again tomorrow.**


	6. Chapter 6

Romano glared at Skogurland as though if he did it angrily enough, the 'boy' would return the brothers to their homes. His amber orbs flickered like a candle, semi-reflecting the flames lighting the dining hall.

Sko felt the cold glare, and ignored it, instead focusing on her training plan. Her culture hadn't quite developed paper, so she scribbled strategies on some Maple bark, using a half-burnt twig as a pencil.

She wrote down a few lines, scratched her chin a moment, then licked her thumb and 'erased' one of the words.

"Vee~" Italy interupted, waving his spoon about. "Don't you have any past-"

"No. Wulf stew is better."

Frustrated at being ignored and at Feli's insistance for _that_ dish, Roma kicked his twin, a tiny smile perking the corner of his mouth for an instant at the yelp.

Sko didn't bother to look up at the heavy footsteps that came up behind her.

"(Yes, Vald?)" She sighed.

Vald- the chief of the forest dwelling natives- chuckled, giving his scratchy blonde beard a small tug. "(I came to see your return. But who are these two...outsiders?)" he questioned, grasping for a word to describe the Italians better, but finding none in his immediate vocabulary.

"(They are weak. So I brought them back for training.)"

"(You think that wise? If the enemy is weak, then it would be easier-)"

Sko slammed her fist down on the table, quieting the entire hall.

"(Preying on weak enemies is shameful! These are our allies as of yet, so I believe it best to strengthen our fellows to above fear of a mere cub. Understood?)"

Vald dared not answer.

Sko turned her back again. "(These two will join the younger boys tommorow for training. Unless you have another matter to discuss, Vald...)"

The man needed not the hint. He departed almost as fast as Italy does when he sees England with a scone in hand.

All was silent for the longest minute, before Romano stormed off, grumbling about 'wild basterds' and 'caveman language'. Feliciano followed quickly, wanting to be sure that his fratello did not try to swim for it again.

-0-

-0-

Lovi huffed about the underbrush, swearing under his breath. _Damn wild ragazzo, feeding us garbage and sticking us in the middle of nowhere._

He ducked around a tree and into a bush, reveling in the sight of his sibling appearing and starting to panic at his solitude.

Eventually though, Roma's hidden caring side broke through his layers and made him show himself.

"Vee~ fratelloooooooo~ I thought you-a left me again~"

Lovino accepted the hug somewhat reluctantly, ending it by pinching his 'idiot brother''s cheek.

"Just give me your phone already. We need to get help, remember?"

"Vee~ you're so smart~"

Feli plucked his smartphone from his pocket and turned it on. Once it was finally booted up, the device 'dinged' several times, chiming in rapid succesion.

"_You have...40...missed calls from...Antonio."_

The twins listened for ten full minutes before Lovi flicked off the Spaniard's blubbering, feeling a pang in his chest.

But even after climbing the nearest tree to the very top, there was no signal. Not a single bar of service.

The men sat on the ground and curled up their legs, the elder burrowing his face into his knees in a small fit of despair.

They stayed that way for a while, until Alvi came to collect them. They hadn't even realized they had been lost.

Once back in the village, Sko sent them into her home so that they could change for training. She almost put it off for the night, seeing the usually fiesty Italia Romano being quiet and sullen.

But when she heard snores coming through the earthy wall, she threw the thoughts to the wind.

"UP. NOW. Running time!" the child-nation demanded, thwacking the brunettes on the head with the broad side of her sword.

-0-

-0-

The next day, at one of many World Meeting halls located around the globe, most of the world assembled. Almost everyone had gone not just for their 'duty-as-a-nation' sake, but to see what could possibly make Germany call them out there.

"It _must_ be important," they all thought. "He looks _horrible!"_

It was true; the hair that was strayed from its slicked-back position was popping up in random tufts, forgotten by worry. Ludwig and Antonio both had dark bags under their eyes, and their clothes were rather unkept as well.

Something must REALLY be wrong, for the German neat-freak to have his tie half-done, and for the country of passion to not be spacing out.

Indeed, Spain was staring everyone down, checking for give-aways on a culprit.

"Danke shon for coming, everyone. I know you vud rather be zumplace else, but..." he faltered, not sure how to continue.

Spain slammed his palms down on the table, making all save for Ivan and Bell jump.

England hadn't seen Spain use that look since they had been pirates. The brit shivered.

"Roma and Feli are missing. Confess now and your pain will be short."


End file.
